


Keeper of Souls

by moonblooch



Series: Critical Class-Swap [3]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, Percy's a cleric in this one, also i've taken a few liberties with this goddess, also this deviates a fair bit from canon backstory but that's kinda the point, class swap with the mighty nein, its still kind of a warlock type angle, so if you're a dnd buff don't yell at me please
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-08-19 11:41:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16533935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonblooch/pseuds/moonblooch
Summary: In which Percy finds a deal with a god, not a demon.





	Keeper of Souls

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for the sweet validation on the other parts of this series I love you all. 
> 
> As ever I don't own any of these characters, please support real Critical Role it's really cool.

It’s the three arrows that stay with him. Cassandra fell, but it may as well have been him for the hole he feels where his heart used to be. He’s directionless, wandering southward in a daze and only stopping when his legs can no longer carry him.

It is this lack of direction that leads him to the cave.

He is cold and his feet are bleeding from the soles of his shoes that gave out miles ago. He hadn’t used roads, hadn’t dared to, and no longer knew what time it was only that it was rapidly getting colder. The cave came to him in a blur (but the what didn’t? all of his glasses were at the castle) a dark smudge that could have provided shelter or death, but he is too tired to care for the difference now.

Collapsing into the mouth and just out of the rain that had finally broken the canopy, he allows himself a breath. It is then that he sees the light. A faint, flickering glint that clung to the damp walls of the cave. He crawls towards it, hand after hand for what feels like an eternity until he sees a single, guttering candle. It hadn’t burned low yet.

“Hello?”

The only response is his own rasping voice bounced back at him from the walls that seem too close for comfort.

There is a basket in front of the candle and he knocks it down to see that it holds food. Basic rations, probably too old to still taste but they looked edible and he gasps it down as if it were air. He hasn’t eaten in so long, he finds himself clutching his stomach in an effort not to vomit from the pain that has settled there.

There’s even more darkness clouding his vision now and the candle is burning low. He’s burning uncontrollably, fighting for every breath.

“Hello child.”

He flings himself against the wall, hissing when the rock rams into his back. Sat across from him, just beyond the candle flame is a woman. Her knees are hugged to her chest and though her feet are bare he cannot tell I the same is true of the rest of her since what else of her there is, save for two glowing eyes, is shrouded by dark, wet hair.

“Few pay me visit these days, unless they are in need of aid. Are you in need of aid child?”

He is.

He finds himself nodding before he can stop.

“Then I see we have a commonality. Do you believe that we could help each other?”

He tries to speak but his throat is swollen shut. The question burns at the forefront of his mind.”

“What do I want?”

He nods again.

“Look around you child, this place was once a temple. Never a great one, as one you may see in the big cities, but enough honoured it to make it great in my eyes. Enough avoided it to grant it that status also.”

A hand emerged from the curtain of hair, held flat and from it emerged a light which showed the faint carvings on the walls. Percy could hear laughter and a wild, pulsing music. He could no longer tell if the warmth he was feeling was from the light or fever and the twisting shadows which are emerging make his head feel as if it’s tearing in two.

 “But my followers have faded with time, and with them my power. I sense that you can help me with this.”

The light shrank back down to her palm.

“Percival, I am asking you to represent me. I shall give you my name, my symbol and my power and in return you will act in my name. There is little you can do which will be considered good, but you shall have the heads of the Briarwoods and their entire entourage mounted on the walls of Whitestone Castle to rot. I will eat them for you my child, I only require you to place them on a platter.”

Percy felt the air rush back into his throat all at once. His only company on the road had been Ripley’s voice, still bombarding him with questions even now. Every noise, every snap of a twig until this point had sent him spinning, looking desperately for the blades which were chasing him. His family is fallen, and with them Whitestone and with that any expectations of him and his behaviour.

“Yes.”

This woman, this thing is clearly dangerous. She feels far, far older than she appears and there’s something wild behind those eyes that are watching him so carefully. Her wording had implied godhood; for her to be talking to a mere mortal, and not a particularly religious one at that, means something big is coming. Something she wants him for.

“What is your stake in this?” he asks, far too late.

“Your Briarwoods.” She replies. “They use my power and pay tribute to a false god. I shall not allow them to cast me aside as their pet doctor did to you.”

He can still only see her eyes, but he senses her smiling. There’s something manic to her voice now.

“This agreement is not binding.” She said, another hand emerging and beginning to mould and toy with the light, sculpting it into something. “You may leave me if you wish, I would not be able to retaliate for now. I will not ask you to be my champion, not yet. You must carry my symbol openly, though my name will not gain you favours with those who still know it. This will not be an easy path Percival.”

He finds his voice again.

“I had not assumed it would be.”

She lets out a wet laugh.

“Certainly my child. My power will allow you to heal and to hurt, though you must decide which of these best pleases me if you desire my direct influence. I am certain you will know which when I give you my name.”

Finishing her sculpting, she reaches out and hands him a small symbol. It appears tarnished, though it may have been copper once. It’s a triangle, containing three teardrops. Three teardrops which look like arrowheads if one is squinting. Or if one isn’t wearing their glasses.

“I must leave now Percival. You shall hear from me soon; I do not have many followers you must share my time with.”

He finds his throat useless again as she stands to walk past him, stroking her hand through his hair as she passes.

“Sleep now my child, in the morning I will point you south.”

He wakes with the sunrise, finding it blinding as he finally emerges from the cave. He’s still clutching the symbol. In the light the mottled blue of copper is clear. They would never have allowed anything this tarnished in the castle, but it feels wrong to try polishing it. He throws the symbol upwards letting it land. He makes a note of the direction the triangle is pointing before picking it up and walking again.

It’s time to see if Talona is as good as her word.

**Author's Note:**

> Regarding Talona; she was supposed to be chaotic evil but I don't know if I could really spin that over something so short so she might read a little differently here. I still tried to make the deal a bit reminiscent of a warlock's deal, but I think I'd have to expand on it in something longer.
> 
> So I really want to play with the Vox Machina class swap in something longer than these character study type things I've been doing so far, but I don't know if I will, certainly not until I've completely finished the first campaign. Also if I was doing something longer I'd probably have to have Percy multi-classing.
> 
> Before anyone asks, I am working on a Bloodhunter swap for Percy as well; Molly as a gunslinger was part of the reason I came up with this series to begin with. Please don't ask me how I'm going to manage a gunslinger swap Caduceus, it's nearly as painful as trying to make Scanlan a convincing rogue.


End file.
